"You must be thirsty after your ride," Kari said, giving Seregil a mischievous look. "If I know you, you talked the whole way. Would you dare sample this season's beer? For once I think it's almost fit to drink."

Micum nudged Alec playfully as she went out.

"This is the first season since we came south that I've seen her satisfied with her beer. Mind you, she's the finest brewer in the valley, but she's never left off saying that northern hops give a finer taste."

"I think I've heard her mention it a few times," Seregil concurred wryly. "Illia, do you think you could fetch my saddlebags there by the door?"

The little girl's eyes went round. "Presents?"

"Who knows?" he teased. "But here's Beka at last."

A tall girl in a stained tunic and breeches burst in, her face lit by an expectant smile.

"Any news, Seregil?" she cried, stooping to hug him.

"Patience, Beka. At least say hello to Alec first."

Of all the girls, Beka alone had taken after her father. Freckles peppered her fair skin, and an unkempt mare's tail of coppery red hair tumbled over her shoulder as she leaned forward to clasp hands with Alec. She had rather too much of her father's features to be beautiful, but her sharp blue eyes and ready smile would never let her be called homely either.

"Father says you're quite an archer," she said, looking him over in friendly appraisal. "I hope you brought that bow of yours. I've never seen a Black Radly."

"It's there by the door," Alec replied, suddenly more at ease than he'd been since their arrival.

"Here they are!" Illia puffed, dragging the saddlebags over to Seregil. "Did you remember what I asked you for?"

"Illia, you beggar!" her mother scolded, returning with a pitcher and mugs.

"Why don't you reach in and see what's there while I try your mother's excellent beer?" Seregil suggested, taking a long sip. "Sheer delight, Kari. Better than that served at the royal table of Mycena."

Alec sampled his own and didn't doubt Seregil's sincerity, though Kari obviously did.

"Well, it's better than last year's," she allowed.

Illia, meanwhile, had worried open the first bag.

"These must be for Beka," she said, pulling out a pair of glossy cavalry boots. "She's going to be a horse guard."

"A rider in the Queen's Horse Guard," Beka corrected, looking hopefully at Seregil.

Micum shook his head in mock despair. "We haven't had a moment's peace since she heard you were back."

Seregil drew a scroll case from his coat and presented it to her. Prying off the seal, she shook out the papers inside and scanned quickly down through them, her grin broadening by the second.

"I knew you could do it!" she cried, giving Seregil another exuberant hug. "Look, Mother, I'm to report in a week's time!"

"There's not a finer regiment," Kari said, slipping an arm about Beka's shoulders. "And think how much quieter it will be without you crashing in and out!"

As Beka sat down to try on the new boots, Micum reached to take his wife's hand; her smile did not match the sudden misting of her eyes.

"She's your daughter, right enough," Kari sighed, clasping his hand tightly.

Illia burrowed deeper, finding a tobacco pouch for Micum and a larger bag for her mother.

"Oh, Seregil, you needn't have—"

Kari began, then broke off as she pulled out a handful of papery hop cones and a knot of wizened roots.

"Cavish hops!" she cried, holding the cones to her nose. "This brings my father's hop yard back to me as if I were standing in it! All the cuttings I brought with me here died out years ago. Oh, Seregil, how good of you to think of it. Someday perhaps I'll be able to brew a proper beer again."

Seregil saluted her with his cup. "I want to be the first to broach a keg of the batch that pleases you."

Rescuing a finely bound book from Illia's impatient pillaging, he handed it to Elsbet.

"The dialogs of Tassis!" the girl breathed, examining the cover. Any trace of shyness fled as she opened the volume and ran a finger down the first page. "And in Aurлnfaie! Where did you ever find it?"

"I'd rather not say. But if you look toward the middle, I think you'll find something else of interest."

Elsbet's eyes widened as she drew out a small square of parchment and read Nysander's invitation to visit at her earliest convenience.

"Someone must have mentioned your interest in the Orлska library to him," Seregil said, affecting innocence.

Torn between terror and delight, Elsbet stammered, "I wouldn't know what to say to him."

"He's pretty easy to talk to," Alec told her. "After a few minutes you feel as if you've known him all your life."

Elsbet returned to her book, blushing more hotly than ever.

"Uncle!" Illia rocked back on her heels with an indignant look. "There's nothing else in here!"

"And my lady supposes herself forgotten! Give me your kerchief and climb up in Alec's lap.

Don't be shy—he has lovely young ladies sitting on his lap all the time. You're quite used to it, aren't you, Alec?"

Alec gave Seregil a dark look over the top of Illia's head, not appreciating the gibe.

"Now," said Seregil, pinching the corners of the kerchief together and holding it up, "what was it you asked for last time I was here?"

"Something magic," Illia whispered, dark eyes fastened on the kerchief.

Making a great show of incantations and gestures, Seregil handed it back to her. She unfolded it to find a small ivory carving on a chain.

"What does it do?" she asked, hanging it about her neck at once. Before Seregil could reply, however, a swallow fluttered in through the smoke hole and lit on Illia's knee. Blinking in the firelight, the little bird began to preen.

"It's a drysian charm," Seregil told her as she reached out to stroke its shiny blue wing. "You must be very gentle with the birds it brings to you and never use it for hunting. Study them as much as you like, but put the charm away when you're finished so that they can fly away."

"I promise," Illia said solemnly. "Thank you, Uncle."

"And now it's time for your swallow to fly off in search of its supper," said her mother fondly, "and for you, my little bird, to fly off to your bed."

With a final kiss for Seregil, Illia went out with her mother. Elsbet retired to a quieter corner with the new book.

"Alec, I bet Beka would like a look at that black bow of yours, before it gets too dark,"

Micum suggested. "Get her to show you her horses in return."

"I've got some beauties," Beka said proudly as he fetched his bow and quiver. "Pure Aurлnfaie blood, and some mixed. You'll have to try them out while you're here."

Micum turned to Seregil and raised an eyebrow when they'd gone. "He's just the thing to occupy her while she waits to report. But what am I supposed to teach him that you couldn't yourself?"

Seregil shrugged. "You know me. I have no patience with beginners. Can he ride in with you and Beka at the end of the week?"

"Of course," Micum said, sensing something in the wind. "Something going on back in Rhнminee?"

Seregil pulled out the damning letter Nysander had intercepted. "Seems Lord Seregil has run afoul of the Lerans at last. I've got a forger to track down."

Micum quickly scanned the letter. "Does Alec know?"

"Yes, and he's none too happy about being put out of the way. Keep him occupied and make a swordsman of him for me. It's the only thing holding him back. By the Light, Micum, you've never seen such a sponge for learning. It's all I can do to keep ahead of him!"

"He puts me a great deal in mind of you at that age."

"I could do worse, then. Now, assuming this week goes well, I'd like to arrange a little something special for him when he gets back."

"Smooth his feathers, eh?" Micum asked with a knowing look. "What did you have in mind?"